


Isekai: Hoist the Colors and Set Sail

by ChibiInu20



Category: One Piece
Genre: Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit, Angst, Canon Character Mentioned, Canon-Typical Violence, Characters Added As They Appear - Freeform, Childhood Trauma, How Do I Tag, Minor Character Death, Original Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychological Trauma, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Slave Trade, Trauma, minor self-harm, stereden's Discord Server, stereden's One Piece Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:47:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28270386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibiInu20/pseuds/ChibiInu20
Summary: Every fan has at one point or another wished they could live in world of their dreams. When a Discord server plot bunny enabling session goes too far a group of fans get just that. For better or for worse. Becoming the Discord Pirates, they spread chaos in their attempts to have fun and derail canon.Join Emily, one such member, through the logic rending and dangerous world of One Piece.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15
Collections: Scattered in Pieces (yet we are One)





	1. In Which Isekai Happens (alt. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Watashitachi wa Roger kaizoku desu (we still stand proud)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14884211) by [stereden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stereden/pseuds/stereden). 



> So this is the first actual thing I've posted and I'm really nervous so please be kind.

Emily knew immediately that something was off. There was a number of things that were different, abnormal. She wasn’t in her bed and she didn’t recall going to sleep. Her body felt different and her back hurt differently. There was wood under her and the scent of the ocean filled the air. The clothes felt like rough spun rags and the room was swaying. Her mouth had something, maybe it was a blueberry, in it.

Coming to full consciousness, she shot up into a sitting position. Almost choking, she was forced to swallow whatever had been in her mouth. Unfortunately it also apparently didn’t like that because it rebelled with a god awful taste in her mouth that left her gagging. She had never tasted anything so terrible in her life. It was a combination of every flavor she had ever disliked, every repugnant smell ever, a lingering feeling of every bad texture, and something unidentifiable but nasty and all of it ramped up to eleven. 

Looking for something to wash her mouth out with, she glanced around the room she found herself in. It was a small room. Every surface that could be seen, but one wall, was made out of wood. That one wall, which also included the door, was made out of metal, metal bars.

She was in a cage.

She went to get up to see what she could from the cage bars only to stop. She couldn’t remember the last time her hands and feet were so small. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly and deeply in through her nose and out through her mouth, repeating until she no longer felt like she was about to freak out. Then she opened her eyes and looked at herself.

_Okay. My hands and feet are smaller, my arms and legs shorter, and I have no boobs but also don’t have anything new. I’m prepubescent. Fuck._

“So the little bitch is awake.” Emily flinched at the voice and she turned to see a half dozen men at the cage entrance. Her breath shortened as her throat tightened and she automatically started employing the tricks for breathing acquired from living with asthma. Her heart pounded in her ears and sound grew muffled to Emily as she took in the men before her. 

They all had that stereotypical bad pirate look and smell to them. The old stained clothes, unkempt hair, missing teeth and terrible smell. There was some part of her that knew these men, knew these men and trembled violently. This was a level of fear she had never felt before. It wasn’t the fear of the unknown or even the men themselves. No this is the fear of what these men stood for and what it meant for her.

She barely had time to realize how utterly terrified she was before a familiar feeling bubbled up inside her. Her trembling changed as her muscles tensed, jaw locked, and fists clenched. It was a fury that swelled and churned with a ferocity that overwhelmed her. She saw red.

It was a while later that she came back to herself. She was no longer in the cage she had awoken in. She was on the deck of a ship. It was probably even the _same_ ship.

She still saw red but it was different. Before it had been the red of rage. Now it looked like everything had been painted red. Why would anyone paint in weird patterns and splatters of red on otherwise unpainted surfaces? It was only after looking down at her hands that she realized what had happened. Not only her hands but the whole front of her body was also covered in red. She belatedly realized she was soaked to the bone.

It’s blood. All the red she was covered in and all the shapes she sees is blood.

“What did I do?” she murmured horrified. She started to sob. Never before had she done more than slightly blur out when angry. Now she had a gap of time that she had no memory of, a period of time that left her soaked with the blood of who knows how many.

She turned toward where she assumed she came from, judging by the bloody footprints, only to stiffen. There laid a man who had a wooden spike through his neck. It looked as if the ship itself had attacked him. She turned and ran to the side of the ship and threw up.

After she finally stopped heaving and moved away, she noticed a box sitting in a corner untouched and moved over to get a better look. It was wrapped up like a Christmas present in paper that was red with green swirls that rung alarm bells in the back of her head. It was also tied shut with a gold ribbon and bow with an envelope between the two. She undid the bow and fully removed the ribbon before opening the envelope and reading the letter inside.

Dear ChibiInu20, Chibi, Emily,

Thank you for volunteering to be Isekai’d into this One Piece universe. I’m sure at some point you’ll be reunited with the other volunteers from the server.

As you are not an idiot you have probably figured out that the berry that you almost choked on was a Devil Fruit. It was that Moku-Moku no mi that has been floating around in your brain for a year waiting for you to write it into a story.

You’re on an unimportant island in the East Blue. The only things going for it are the dangerous flora and fauna and the fact it's a slaver crew’s base. Also Roger’s ‘execution’ was 9 years ago.

The Box contains your other gifts. Try to have fun and remember…

Keep Me Entertained.

Your Random Omnipotent Being

P.S. Your memories should be finished combining now

She placed the letter back in the envelope and the envelope in the box before sitting back against the railing. She then just sat there staring blankly past the gore. Just staring out at nothing, absorbed in her thoughts and memories.

She was a Kintsugi girl. A girl who cracked and shattered into pieces as a child. It had taken her a decade to put those pieces into their new places. She had had blows that set back her progress, almost erasing it. Some pieces are just completely gone and she had still been in the process of filling in the cracks and empty spaces. 

Then this happened. It was supposed to be a joke. A plot bunny to flesh out into a full story. She wasn’t even part of the initial brainstorming but thought it would be a fun way to dip her feet back into the server after being absent for over half a year. But the R.O.B. was real and it knew just what to do to her to entertain itself. It inserted her into the body of an eight year old and merged their psyches and memories. 

Now she’s shattered again. 

She is eight and twenty five and somewhere in between. She has the memories of two happy families, both of which she has now been torn away from. She has the memories of two happy childhoods that were destroyed by the cruelty of man, one through the casual cruelty of children who have yet to truly form their own opinions and the other of adults whose greed they hold above the freedom and happiness of others. She is torn between the mindset of an outsider looking in and an insider looking out.

She doesn’t know if she can put herself back together again.


	2. In Which Processing Happens (alt. Clinging to Just One More Day)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is minor self harm right after "I know I’m alone because no one showed up during the time since I... don’t think about it, don’t think about it.” It is in the next sentence. The paragraph ends with “The ROB said that the Island is dangerous and so I need to survive until either someone comes or I figure out how to leave.”
> 
> there is no more self harm later on unless you count purposely pushing to exhaustion repeatedly

It was hours later before she snapped out of the fog she was in. The sun was now at its apex and her stomach was making its displeasure known. She looked around at the ship and island she had found herself on.

The ship had three large masts and a whole bunch of sails, none of which were down. There also looked to be five decks. She knew the back most one, which was also highest, was the poop deck and that the biggest, lowest, and center deck was the main deck but she didn’t know the names of the other three. Two of the remaining decks were at the front of the ship. She’d call the really small one at the very front of the ship the ‘bow’ deck and the other, which was between the ‘bow’ deck and the main deck and was a level higher, she’d call the ‘fore’ deck because while she didn’t think it was quite right it was close enough. That just left the deck she was on. It had the wheel on it so it was now being called the ‘wheel’ deck.

The ship itself was in a lake that was almost completely surrounded by dense jungle. The lake had a small beach and access to the open ocean not too far from the ship and its dock as well as a river leading to another lake at the opposite end. The river toward the ocean had a bridge across it that looked as if it could be lifted up to allow the ship through. To the southwest, a ways away before the beach curved, there looked to be two more rivers with similar bridges. To the southeast there was a short bit of beach before it curved and the foliage blocked the rest from sight. To the direct west it looked to have a very rapid incline judging by the snowy peaks. There looked to also be a small range of hills or mountains to the North-North-East.

Having seen what she could from the deck of the ship, she started to talk to herself to focus her thoughts. “Alright, I’m alone on an island in the East Blue. I know I’m alone because no one showed up during the time since I... don’t think about it, don’t think about it.” She bites her wrist hard to quickly pull her out of the spiral her thoughts were in. “The ROB said that the Island is dangerous and so I need to survive until either someone comes or I figure out how to leave.”

“Now what do I know about survival? I know the rule of three, three seconds in an active crisis, three minutes without breathable air, three hours without shelter in hostile environments, three days without potable water, three weeks without food, three months without hope or companionship. The seconds and minutes doesn’t currently apply so... shelter. I can use the ship. They were going to stock up here before setting out so they probably have food and water for a bit. They probably also have a base here but that can wait. I need to make this ship livable for me and I don’t want to attract any predators so I guess cleaning up the ship is my goal for the next few days. I can find supplies while I’m at it.” She took a deep breath and focused her mind entirely on her goal. “Let's get to work.”

As she worked her way through the ship she noted that there were a total of five levels to the ship. The top level was just the poop deck. The second to top level included the ‘fore’ deck, the ‘wheel’ deck, and the navigation room. The middle level included the ‘bow’ deck, a room at the front under the ‘fore deck’, the main deck, four small private rooms, the Captain’s cabin which included a small balcony and a personal washroom with a toilet, a shower, and a bath. Only two bodies were found on this level, one in the Captain's cabin and one by the stairs to the ‘wheel’ deck. The next level at the stern end included the kitchen, infirmary, in-use food storage, four semi private rooms, a toilet, and shower. The rest of this level was dedicated to hammocks, canons, and canon supplies. It was on this level that she spent the most time as this is where the majority of the crew had been, one in the kitchen, one in the infirmary, and twenty in the gun deck. The bottom level consisted solely of storage and cages, including the one Emily woke up in. All of the cages were empty and the only bodies were those of the six who had come down to visit her earlier.

It took her the rest of the day to move the dead to the main deck. Most of the moving was easy due to the decreased friction from the blood that coated the floor. The only real time consuming parts were removing the wood and moving them between levels. Sometimes she could get the wood to respond and others she couldn’t. She did manage to turn part of the stairs into a slope though. After gathering all the dead, she removed anything she felt she might need to survive in this world and dumped it all inside the door that headed to the Captain’s cabin. She then returned to the main deck.

“It's strange,” she tiredly contemplated while looking at the dead “if I see them while clinging to the me-that-was-not-born-here I feel horror and nausea at the sight of the dead, shame and sorrow at having killed, and conflicted for them being dead. But if I pull from the me-that-was-born-here the emotions are completely different. I feel irritation at having to dispose of them, shock of having been able to kill them, and a vicious glee of them not being able to ruin anymore lives.”

She stood several minutes in thoughtful silence, dwelling on what she had said. “I’m really fucked up aren’t I.”

She let those thoughts linger for a bit before she spoke directly to the dead. “I don’t know what funeral rights you wished for while you were living, and I don’t know if I care much or even at all. I will give you that which needs the least amount of effort from me because _you aren’t worth it_ . You who stole the lives and happiness of who knows how many when you raided islands and sold the survivors into slavery. You whose greatest achievements are the _ruination_ of others. I speak for all those whose lives you shredded when I wholeheartedly say, I wish whatever afterlife you find yourselves in, you experience that which you doomed others to. May you only find peace when you have repaid the debt you’ve gained by the selling of others’ freedom. _Good riddance_.” With that she started pushing the dead off the ship and into their new watery grave. With the last rays of sunlight the last slaver was sent out to sea by way of the river.

Mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted she returned to the canon deck and collapsed into a hammock.

She’s back in her first elementary school being bullied by her classmates. Her former friends have turned their backs on her and are walking away. She is crying on the ground and her classmates are laughing. Suddenly the laughs of her classmates have matured. They’ve morphed into Celestial Dragons and are hurting her. She turns her head to the left and sees her twin on the ground, staring at her with wide dead eyes.

Emily awoke with a jerk and fell out of the hammock.

“Owwww…”

She got up off the floor and headed up top to see what time it was. The sky was dark but one part of the horizon lightened so she sat and watched the sunrise. As she got up her eyes caught on the box from the ROB. She stopped and looked at it. It was probably a bad idea to put off looking in the box until later but she didn’t want to stain anything. She washed her hands in the captain's cabin and then returned to open it.

Inside were four items. The first was the letter that she read yesterday. Now that she was more aware she took the time to examine it. The envelope was thick and had been sealed shut with a wax stamp. The letter itself was made of thick card stock and the words were written in thick black ink which on closer examination shifted into different languages. The second item looked to be a phone. On closer examination it had one message and five apps; a calendar, a camera, a music player, a voice recorder, and a document. The message on the phone was from the ROB and read ‘ The battery is limited and the music unlimited. If it exists you have access to it. Any further communication from me will be through this phone. ’ Third was a black canvas backpack with the words ‘Bag of Holding’ across the top. It had two small pockets for water bottles, one on each side, one thin zippered pocket on the front, one large zippered pocket on top, and a big drawstring opening to the main part of the bag. Lastly was a large light blue plushie. When removed from the box it was bigger than her. It was essentially an anthropomorphic cat with angel wings. As the plushie was now larger than the box and she was unable to return it to the box, she took the plushie and the box into the Captain’s cabin. She was very careful not to touch the plushie with anything but her hands as she placed it on the bed.

Her eyes caught her image in the mirror on the wall. She looked terrible. Large dark circles under blank blue eyes. Light brown hair turned almost black with dirt, grease, and matted blood. It was unsalvageable. She marched her way outside and over to the nearest rail, picking up a dagger as she went. She then cut all her hair off as close to the scalp as she could and tossed it overboard.

She returned to the cabin, grabbed some clean looking clothes, and took a shower. Rusty water swirled its way down the drain.

“So I need goals. First, find food and water for today and the next several days. Second, find cleaning supplies. Third, clean the floors. Fourth figure out what I have. That should keep me busy for a while.

“And maybe one of these days I’ll wake up in my bed back home, either of them, and this all will have been a nightmare.”

Emily spent the next few days in a routine. She would wake up, wash up, eat breakfast, and then work on cleaning the ship spotless. She would work constantly from dawn to dusk, only stopping to eat meals and rehydrate. At the end of the day she would collapse in whatever hammock felt closest. She never slept through the night, always waking to nightmares about the people she killed or the life of Emily-who-was-born-here. It was only after almost a week had passed that there was nothing else for her to do on the ship. The floors were as spotless as they could be, there was no getting those stains out. Every object on board had been cleaned and cataloged. There was nothing else left to distract her. She could no longer hide in denial.

So she walked. She walked the length of the beach to the southwest, being careful not to focus on anything but how far from the ship she wanted to go. She walked over the bridges and only stopped when the ship went just out of sight. She plopped down in the sand facing outward to the ocean and started yelling all the things that she had kept bottled up or been torn fresh from the meld.

“Fuck you! Fuck you slavers for taking my sister and I from our parents! Fuck you Celestial Dragons for being superior complex shit arses who are so lazy that instead of developing fuckin moving walkway tech you buy slaves to push the god damn walkways! Fuck you for being sadistic fucks! Fuck you for making me not show anything except false smiles. Fuck you for ruining my life. Fuck you elementary school for bullying my and then making fun of me for crying because of it. Fuck you for ruining my sense of self worth. Fuck you for ruining my trust in others. Fuck you Adam for making me feel ashamed for laughing at written stories. Fuck you aunt for making feel like I’m worth less. F-fuck you all!” She threw sand and beat the ground, punched the air and mimed choking someone. She breathed heavily and stared out at the sea with fists full of sand. After her breath was back to normal she just sat there for a bit. Time passed in waves and crawls.

She pressed her palms to her eyes as she started to cry.

“I miss you mom, dad. I miss you big sis, little bro. I miss you grandma. I miss you ma, da, Ko…please take me back...I want to go home.” _Where is home?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plushie: https://picrew.me/share?cd=fQbC3AcfZc  
> The backpack: https://www.offworlddesigns.com/bag-of-holding-backpack/  
> WC:2231  
> The alt title from chapter one was from the nursery rhyme Humpty Dumpty, This chapter's is from Still Here by Digital Daggers: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LD9RqOevOpw


End file.
